


The First Ripple

by goldfwish



Series: Drarryland 2019 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Meddling, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 23:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18128150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfwish/pseuds/goldfwish
Summary: Gwen loves being Harry and Draco's secretary, but if she ever has to hear the words “Have you seen what Potter is wearing today?” or “What d’you think Malfoy’s up to right now?” again, she'll finally quit and run away to the Caribbean. She's made up her mind. She's going to do something about this.





	The First Ripple

**Author's Note:**

> Harry and Draco have the same gardener/housekeeper/dog walker/secretary/hired employee etc. who sees more than either of them realise. Pick either 1) **Pining** -OR- 2) Secret Relationship -OR- 3) Thinking They Are Together When They Aren't - written from the POV of the employee - Minimum: 203 words - Maximum: 903 words.

Sometimes Gwen wonders why she doesn’t just quit her job already. Working for Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy—or Harry and Draco, as they insist she calls them—isn’t all bad. In fact, it can actually be quite pleasant some days. But she sincerely thinks she’s going to lose her mind any day now. 

It isn’t that they treat her badly, not at all. They’re never cruel to her, they don’t yell or give her an unreasonable workload. And her pay isn’t bad either. She’s comfortable. No, instead of any of that, she has to put up with all of their horrible, infuriating _pining_. Every single day, five days a week, for _years_ now. It’s disgusting, except of course for the fact that it’s actually kind of cute. But it’s seriously getting in the way of their productivity.

They’re already two days behind on a big project for a very important client, and then they have all the other, smaller things they need to be working on and staying on top of. They may be small, but small adds up quick. Gwen knows they can be more efficient than this, if only Harry could stop gazing longingly at Draco and doodling their names in hearts on important documents like a lovesick 12 year old girl. 

She’s always liked to think of herself as a pretty patient person, but if she ever has to hear the words “Have you seen what Potter is wearing today?” or “What d’you think Malfoy’s up to right now?” again, Gwen will finally quit and run away to the Caribbean. She thinks she’s deserved it, after all that she has to put up with.

And really, it’s kind of pathetic when you think about it. Gwen almost pities them. They’re so obviously in love with each other, but they’re both too stupid to do anything about it. Everyone in the office has put galleons in a betting pool for them, but at this rate that money is just gonna sit and collect dust until the end of time. Gwen has 15 galleons on one of them doing _something_ by the end of the year, goddamnit, and fuck if she’s not going to get her money back.

And so on Tuesday, December 17th at exactly 4:03pm, after _yet another_ hour long session of Draco waxing poetic about the way the light sometimes hits _just right_ on Harry, making him look all soft and attractive—but only objectively of course, it’s not as if _he’s_ attracted to him—Gwen makes up her mind. She’s going to do something about this. She has to, for her own sanity if nothing else.

And after all, a still lake is a pretty sight, but there’s nothing more exciting than a little bit of chaos. 

_So let’s make some ripples._

As their secretary, she knows both of their weekly schedules by heart. On Saturdays, Draco has brunch with his mother and usually stays with her for the rest of the day, shopping and whatnot. As for Harry, Saturdays are when he spends time with Teddy, spoiling the kid rotten and letting Andromeda take a break from her hyperactive grandson. It’s all very predictable. Gwen is sure that Narcissa and Andromeda wouldn’t mind letting her borrow them for a weekend. It’s in the name of love and work productivity, after all.

And luckily, it just so happens that there’s a Quidditch game that very Saturday, Falcons versus Wasps, and isn’t that just so very convenient for Gwen. Makes her job just that little bit easier. And there was that new Italian restaurant that just opened down in Diagon Alley. Perfect.

The only thing left to do is send a few owls, which is no problem. It is her job, after all. So Gwen grabs a piece of parchment, dips her quill, and gets to work.

———

The brim of Gwen’s hat keeps flopping down in front of her face, and her sunglasses make it hard to see in the dim lighting of the restaurant, but it’ll have to do. She can’t have either Harry or Draco looking over and recognizing her. It would ruin the whole thing. 

They have a table right in the middle of the restaurant, and they’re sitting across from each other with a candle between them, the flame flickering and casting shadows across their faces. A pianist is playing a soft tune in the corner, the surface of the grand piano gleaming. It’s all very fancy and romantic, and Gwen would think that it’s absolutely perfect, if it weren’t for the looks on Harry and Draco’s faces.

They both look distinctly uncomfortable in their chairs, shifting around and avoiding each other’s eyes. Damn. Maybe too romantic, then. They both open their mouths at the same time, talking over one another and then stopping awkwardly when they realize. Silence, and more squirming. Gwen cringes. It can’t get any worse than this. She sighs, resigning herself to even more pining in the office. She’s already mourning the loss of her money. 

Draco and Harry pick up their wine glasses, taking a sip at the same time to avoid having to make conversation. They both grimace and put their glasses down. Gwen silently agrees. From what she’s tasted so far, the appetizers aren’t bad, but the drinks leave something to be desired. At least the atmosphere’s nice. 

Draco clears his throat just then, getting Harry’s attention. He jerks his head towards the door, the candle light catching on the blond strands of his hair. He mumbles a question, and Harry nods. They both get up, letting in a gust of snow and cold air as they leave.

It would seem like Gwen’s plan has failed, and they’re going to go their separate ways on worse terms than before, but instead of awkward goodbyes on the sidewalk, they just stand there. Looking at each other. Gwen sits up and takes off her sunglasses, peering attentively through the window. 

The snow falls in a soft scatter around the two of them, making their breath cloud in the air. Draco’s nose and cheeks are red from the cold, and Harry’s chin is buried in his scarf. The two of them make a pretty picture, two figures standing still in the snow.

But then Draco hesitantly raises a gloved hand to brush snowflakes out of Harry’s hair, and it’s the first ripple, a pebble dropping in a lake. Harry smiles at him, sweet and fond, and Draco’s ears are red too, but Gwen doesn’t think it’s only from the cold. 

Harry takes Draco’s hand and says something, his lips forming shapes around syllables that make Draco grin and nod. And with a swish of Harry’s wand, they swirl away. 

Gwen smiles to herself. Finally, she’ll be getting those galleons back.

**Author's Note:**

> The thing that Harry says to Draco at the end is, "Do you want to come to my place?"


End file.
